The gift of aging has not always felt like a gift to me. I have been fearful about the loss of physical strength and energy. I’ve always been a whirlwind of activity, thriving on setting things back in order, and keeping my own house rather than upsetting the animals with a cleaning crew coming in. I am self-employed, and thrive on being an entrepreneur. Last year, during my recovery from rib and vertebrae fractures, I noticed something interesting: my loss of mobility did not diminish my delight in being alive, nor did it dash my dreams. Hmmmm……
My little elder Norfolk Terrier, Miracle, has successfully become the oldest dog to reside in this house, since my youth. She will be 15 in October and has so many physical issues that I could fill this whole note describing them. Yet she is still sassy, pushy and adorable.
I spent all last year treasuring her as she turned 13 and began her next year. Her mother passed away at 13 as did her half-sister. So, Tim and I consciously chose to enjoy every moment of her remaining life, making sure she knew she was cherished. Halfway through the year, I realized she could not walk as fast as the young dogs, so my almost 2-mile walk with four dogs each morning became two walks, the long one with the younger dogs, and then another almost mile walk with her at a ‘cool-down’ pace. I was certain I did not have the time to do this. Yet I looked forward to the time spent with just her every day. Now I am doing a second set of walks in the evening. Huh!
Lessons From My Dog on the Gift of Aging
What I recently realized is that her model is worth studying — a reminder of the true gift of aging. As she loses her eyesight, she is learning to rely on her nose more. As her hearing goes, I find the range of sounds that catch her attention. When we go out for our walk in the evening, she is usually relaxed from snuggling with us on the couch, so she is slow to get to even a saunter. Halfway down the block she begins to enjoy it and then gathers speed on the walk home like a barn-soured horse, going faster and faster as she smells home, then bursting into the house, delighted to be home again. I can see that enjoyment is her north star. She is no longer the prize-winning show dog she was as a young girl. Now she basks in a different form of pleasure, but the joy is still the same.
Shifting My Perspective on the Gift of Aging
I can see that my fear of aging has been predicated on the illusion that I will want the same things when I am older as I do now. It is becoming clear that it is not true. I have all the physical and mental faculties I need—now and going forward—to enjoy life with zest, just in shorter spurts! She is my teacher, my irascible girl. What a gift she is, just by aging well.
She turns 15 in mid-October. Every day for her in this very moment is perfect. She does not have a past or future (well maybe she anticipates breakfast and dinner!). She only has the present, and I can tell that is enough — maybe that is the greatest gift of aging.
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